sent; my heart was in my mouth as I did it, and
I could not, to save my life, have uttered a word. My predicament was
highly perilous; and all incurred by what?--that passion for adventure
that had led me forth out of a position of easy obscurity into a world
of strife, conflict, and difficulty. Why had I not stayed at home? What
foolish infatuation had ever suggested to me the Quixotism of these
wanderings? Blondel had done it all. Were it not for Blondel, I had
never met Father Dyke, talked myself into a stupid wager, lost what was
not my own; in fact, every disaster sprang out of the one before it,
just as twig adheres to branch and branch to trunk. Shall I make a clean
breast of it, and tell my companion my whole story? Shall I explain to
him that at heart I am a creature of the kindliest impulses and most
generous sympathies, that I overflow with good intentions towards my
fellows, and that the problem I am engaged to solve is how shall I
dispense most happiness? Will he comprehend me? Has he a nature
to appreciate an organization so fine and subtle as mine? Will he
understand that the fairy who endows us with our gifts at birth is
reckoned to be munificent when she withholds only one high quality, and
with me that one was courage? I mean the coarse, vulgar, combative
sort of courage that makes men prizefighters and bargees; for as to
the grander species of courage, I imagine it to be my distinguishing
feature.

The question is, will he give me a patient hearing, for my theory
requires nice handling, and some delicacy in the developing? He may cut
me short in his bluff, abrupt way, and say, "Out with it, old fellow,
you want to sneak out of this quarrel." What am I to reply? I shall
rejoin: "Sir, let us first inquire if it be a quarrel. From the time of
Atrides down to the Crimean war, there has not been one instance of
a conflict that did not originate in misconceptions, and has not been
prolonged by delusions! Let us take the Peloponnesian war." A short
grunt beside me here cut short my argumentation. He was fast, sound
asleep, and snoring loudly. My thoughts at once suggested escape. Could
I but get away, I fancied I could find space in the world, never again
to see myself his neighbor.

The train was whirling along between deep chalk cuttings, and at a
furious pace; to leap out was certain death. But was not the same fate
reserved for me if I remained? At last I heard the crank-crank of
the break! We were nea